Conbon20

I understand that Mary,

It does get better but we sure wish things could remain the same as they were that terrible day. I began to realize how everything wears out. I don't want to loose those furnishings because Kathy was so good at decorating. Visitors still remark about how beautifull my home is. Even my clothes which are slowly wearing out, cannot last forever. I just have to come to grips with the fact that all of it is still "just stuff". Sometimes we just want to hold on to the past. It felt like if I could just keep things exactly the same, she would still be there........... and then you get up and start another day.

Stephen

I am new to this grief journey. I'm only into it by 6 months. In the beginning, I went through a flurry of activity. I tried to donate alot of my husbands clothes and gave away many of his cassette tapes. I was just numb and didn't feel anything at the time. I was interrupted in my activity by the necessity of having hip replacement surgery. Now, I am recovering at home and there is still so many of my husband's things that he loved - books, tapes, magic, etc. that are still here with me. It's so hard looking at these things, so I know that I will have to deal with them as I get stronger. I miss him so very much and I hope and pray that this grief lessens. How many times can your heart break I ask myself. Thanks for listening. Connie

Oh, my dear Connie,

I just came on and read about your hip replacement surgery. I am so sorry. Grieving is hard enough without these secondary loses. So many of us seem to have health issues. How are you doing? Yes, the recovery will keep you down for a little while, but I am sure that when you start walking and completing your therapy you'll be good as new. I know you have pain right now but soon you won't even know that hip used to give you trouble!

I know that you are so new in this grief journey. You and Woody were married for 46 years and that is a long, long time.

You know that you can't hurry this path we are on. You asked if 'this terrible hurt will ever go away' and I can't answer that for you but I can tell you that after my first year I am beginning to focus more on the good memories and there are happy times in my life right now.

You are such a sweet person that I know there will be happy times for you. I know that you will learn to blend the deep pain of not having Woody there with you and catching yourself remembering the joyous times.

Is your daughter close? Tears are part of this journey we are on and we will never know when we'll cry. I had to leave the store more than once. One time I just went down the cookie isle and eye-balled the oreo cookies (Jim's favorite) and I lost it - thank goodness I didn't have to much in my cart then because I had to leave. Another time I was in a department store looking for a few new tops to wear and I found myself buying two golf shirts for Jim. I got to the car and remembered that he would not be able to wear them! So, his son got two new golf shirts when he was here visiting! I miss Jim. I have good days. The same will happen to you.

And yes, I believe that our faith will help us get through this heartache but we will have to work very hard. Hugs, Anne

Thank you Anne for responding to me. It helps to know that someone really cares. Yes, my daughter lives pretty close and she is a blessing to me. I am recovering from my surgery pretty well. I had home health workers here for several weeks and next week will start my first outpatient physical therapy. I know when I can drive again and get out of the house, I won't feel so isolated. I still have so much of my husband, Woody's stuff to discard or donate. I can't even bear to open the door to his room right now. I went through a frenzy right after he died and donated most of his clothes, etc. but he was a collector of things he loved so I have to contact his past magic friends to see if they want some of his magic and then there are his books, and tapes, etc. etc. He has a wonderful son (by his first marriage) who has helped me alot and I know John will help me with the rest of his stuff but I don't look forward to doing it. The memories flood in and my whole composure just melts in a sea of tears. I know I must go on and I know he wanted me to go on. One day at a time I guess..... one day at a time. Thanks again for listening. Connie

Hi Anne,

I wish I was where you are at. It has been six months since I lost my wonderful husband and for awhile I thought I was doing pretty good. Now I don't know. I recently had hip replacement surgery and although I am grateful for the wonderful care I had, I now am home alone recooperating. I can't drive yet and so am somewhat isolated unless my daughter comes to visit. I try to stay busy but some days like today.... I find I am crying and I know it's because I miss my husband so very much. We were married 46 years which is a lifetime. I do know that prayer helps because I do alot of that but will this terrible hurt in my heart ever go awaY? i truly don't think the good Lord wants me to be this unhappy so I take hope in my belief in him and that things will get better. Thanks for letting me pour my heart out. Connie

One thing I find most daunting are the holidays. For example, Mother's Day was a disaster for me. The children were coming here to be with Paula on her day. Plans changed as I was asked to come to our oldest son and wife's house instead. Not really wanting to go, but not wishing to tarnish the day for her or Paula, I went. We had a pleasant visit. Found out later that Bobbie (daughter-in-law) was still grieving Paula's loss too. She had a lesser than expected day for herself. How I wish I could have made it better for her. Then headed to my Mothers (she lives a distance away) I was hit with a full blown anxiety-panic attack. Pulling off the road I realized I needed to be home with Paula. Home where we are safe, home where we belong, home together. I also realized a short time later on my drive back home, my immediate thoughts were what if something happens to her while I am gone? Arriving home it was a full hour before my stress and anxiety levels began to diminish. Is this crazy or not?

Now Memorial day is coming up. Our oldest (Greg), Bobbie, and their 8 year old, are headed to San Antonio for six days at Sea World, and Six Flags. Our Daughter (Emily) and her new romance are headed to Galveston for some beach time. Our oldest grand-daughter (Chrissie) is off to New Orleans with her church for a mission trip. Our youngest son (Bradley) and his wife (Jenn) live in Mass. I do hope they have the greatest of times. So a long holiday is upon us and not only will family be gone away, I feel even lonelier because Paula and I lived for these long weekends alone. To work in the yard and garden, long afternoon naps together, staying up late watching movies or talking, she cooking the special meals she so loved doing to surprise and please me. Just being together for our own pleasure. The continued shareing of our lives.

Still to come this year are Paula's birthday, our anniversary, the youngest son's birthday, Thanksgiving, and Paula's favorite holiday, Christmas. All to be spent alone for all intent and purpose. Crying again as I write even this, how will I be able to make the rest of the most significant days of our lives without her? Life seems so lonely, pointless and useless from my vantage point, right now.

Not intending to dredge-up uncomfortable situations for anyone, my mind wanders and the words and emotions spill out of their own accord.

Once again I appreciate all who take the time and make the effort to console this raw grieving soul. Re-reading this post it seems I might be a hopeless case. There are some of us you know.

Chris,

I am so sorry for your loss of your lovely wife, Paula. I know that others on this site have said it but I just want to say it also. You are not alone. All of us here understand what you are going through. We are here to listen and know that whatever you say, we will understand and offer our prayers as you go on this hard journey of grief. I, like so many others, lost my husband and soulmate of 46 years in January. I understand about holidays and the incredible pain they cause when your loved one is gone. I won't tell you the pain completely goes away, but it does get a little better. I hope this doesn't sound that an empty platitude because I truly believe that you need to just "take it one day at a time". We are here for you. Connie

I am posting this in pdf format because it is long (not outrageously long). It is some of my insights into this grief journey...mine...after 3 years and how it relates to being still...to being quiet...to being in solitude...to meditating...to doing the work. Mary with peace.

Sunday Morning May 19, 2013.pdf

Mary,

I read your thoughts and meditations from Sunday. I too watched "Sunday Morning" as it was a regular routine for my husband and I to do every week. I can identify with your statements about needing to rest and meditate. I have been doing that alot lately without really thinking about it. Being alone in this little mobile home (it's just a single wide) limits what space I have but I still find it soothing to just sit and read my daily devotionals each morning. I know that we all are on a grief journey but we also are all on a faith journey. There is no way to separate them and I wouldn't want to anyway.

I like this one. By Nicholas Evans, from The Smoke Jumper. A poem which I can't shorten:-

If I be the first of us to die,

Let grief not blacken long your sky.

Be bold yet modest in your grieving.

There is change but not a leaving.

For just as death is part of life,

The dead live on forever in the living.

For all the gathered riches of our journey,

The moments shared, the mysteries explored,

The steady layer of intimacy stored,

The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,

The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,

The wordless language of look and touch,

The knowing.

Each giving and each taking,

These are not flowers that fade,

Nor trees that fall and crumble,

Nor are they stone

For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand

And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.

What we were, we are.

What we had, we have.

A conjoined past imperishably present.

So when you walk the woods where once we walked together

And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,

Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,

And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,

And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you.

Be still.

Close your eyes.

Breathe.

Listen for my footfall in your heart.

I am not gone but merely walk within you.

What a beautiful poem. I have written poetry for many years but I find that I haven't been able to write a poem about my loss. I do take comfort in the poems I wrote about my relationship with my husband BEFORE he passed away though. I'm so happy I was able to show him those poems while he was still alive.

Dear Connie,

Was his name Woody? He must have been a wonderful person to share life, so much open and caring personality shining from him! Some of my family is from Oklahoma, and they grew up during the depression there. Fortunately, they were able to hold on to the land, just barely. I think people who grew up at that time were frugal and saving just out of habit. Actually, I was glad to have learned some of those habits from my uncles.

Please do tell us more. Such wonderful histories deserve to be shared, savored, and praised by those of us who appreciate people who lived authentically. And you will find many of those people here. MY husband was an ornithologist, an Alpinist of some repute (lots of first ascents) and an epistemologist He was also a marvelous character, served as auctioneer, and was a remarkable story teller and story maker.

So, please, consider this a safe and welcoming place to tell us all about your dear husband, your life together, and about you. We all sit around this fire and share stories, some happy, some sad, some simply our stories. Welcome to this Tribe.

Blessings and fairy dustings of love and peace *<twinkles>*

fae

Hi Fae,

It was so kind of you to respond to my posting. Yes, my husband's name was Woody. It's an unusual name for an unusual man. His father was a Woody also. Our first grandson shares to a certain degree his namesake. Blake is 22 now but when he was born, his mother was of course married to Blake's dad - who was a full blooded Seminole Indian (I should say native American). Blake's dad wanted him to have a Native American name and my daughter wanted Blake to have Woody in his name. The final outcome is this: Blake's legal name is: Blake Woody-Bear and then his last name. My husband said to us all. For Goodness sake, don't call him Woody-Bear ..... he will be teased all his life. Blake is proud of his name though and he loved his Grampa so very much. I would love to hear more about YOUR husband. Forgive my ignorance but you'll have to explain exactly what epistemologist does. It's so very comforting to talk to someone about my husband. Thank you Fae. Connie

I talk to Pete all the time. We were married for fifty years and I too have never been alone. Pete was my soul mate and I'm lost without him, but I know I have to carry on. It's so so hard but you will count one blessing and that is that you have found this community. Please let us know more about your husband. What is his name? Where do you live? I live in England. I'm just going out (nine am here) to look in Pete's moth trap and identify any moths (and release them). I talk to Pete when I do it. I find this a bitter sweet experience especially when I can't decided what kind of moth I'm looking at and I know Pete would know immediately. My life without Pete is utterly changed but I cling on to the things which connect me with him.

Hi Jan C,

Thanks for responding to my post. It's so kind of you to ask about my husband. He was a remarkable man. He grew up during the depression in Oklahoma. That so formed much of what he was. He would always buy extra canned goods or toilet paper and store it away. I'd ask him about it and he'd say.... It's our reserve - we may need it. He and his family moved to California when he was young and his mother got him into dance lessons and acting lessons. He was in many of the "Little Rascals" films and other films. Later, he became interested in Al Jolson - the great singer of the time - so Woody did impersonations of Al Jolson and was very popular. His real passion was magic. He did stage shows all across the country and I have posters and memorabilia showing him doing his magic. Later on after we were married, he taught magic to kids in our home which he enjoyed. He loved radio too and after serving in Korea, was employed at a radio station on the island of GUAM. I could go on and on but as you can see, he loved to entertain people in any genre and I was so proud of him. After he passed away, I had one of his posters and a caricature framed of him. I have it up on my wall so I find myself throwing him kisses each day. I miss him so very much. Thanks for letting me tell you about him. Connie

Does anyone out there still talk to their departed spouse? My husband of 46 years passed away in January. I miss him so very much. I find that I will wake up in the middle of the night and be talking to him and telling him how much I still love him and how much I still miss him. Sometimes, I will wake up and say to him.......... "I think I dreamed of you dear" I look at a sign he posted for me that I seemed to hate at the time. It says "keep on keeping on" and I tell him "I'm trying Dear but it's so hard without you". This is the first time in my life that I have been physically alone. Sometimes it just helps to talk to him.

In Darkness Comes the Light

The last several days have been ones that caused me to question “Why?” I know there is no answer to this question but it still doesn’t stop me from asking it. Why is there so much pain when you lose someone so precious to you? Why do we have to go through so many hardships? Why do people we love have to endure hardship after hardship? Why go on in this earthly life when we have been ripped away from our soulmates – the one who has completed us when we were together?

Today when I took Benji for our walk I thought about these questions. I battled in my mind that there is no reason for me to only look at the darkness. Here I am in sunny Arizona basking in the sun with temperatures in the 80s. I should be grateful. After our time in the park, I went over to Memorial Park where I have a remembrance paver identifying Jim as a pilot serving in WW11. He was so much more than a pilot. He was a son, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a Christian…

Today I did more crying than thinking. My heart ached but I sat there for a while.

I really have no reason to see only darkness so upon a friend’s suggestion I’m going to try to turn my attention to those things that bring joy and happiness to me. Benji, grandbabies, a rather healthy mind if not body, playing the piano (I’m getting better), pinning (I’m addicted), reading, listening to music, gardening, being outdoors, sitting by water, watching sunsets, baking, eating (well, what I’m allowed), meeting friends or talking to friends, and being a member of this ‘tribe’ of very special people. I don’t know if it will pull me out of this curtain of darkness but it will be a reason to focus on what I do have here as I wait for my time with Jim again. One thing I decided to do was open The Box that has been sitting on top of the fireplace since Christmas and read some of the messages my family and friends wrote on index cards about their memory of Jim. I was waiting for the first year of death to read the notes. To my surprise many of the messages were addressed to me telling me how lucky Jim was to have me. How he loved my cooking no matter what I cooked. The kids thanked me for taking care of their dad, friends were kind in their notes remembering how Jim loved to be at the ballpark keeping score for the Senior Softball Association. His golfing buddies remembered his good swing and the conversations over beer. His disposition never changed. People liked being around him. I love him. He kept me grounded.

I am trying to figure out who I am now. I knew who I was almost eleven months ago. Today I am not sure. Anne

….the photo is a picture off The Box

Enna,

My husband of 46 years was a collector. He loved to collect and preserve things for "posterity" or his grandkids or history. I had to sort through many, many VCR tapes he recorded. The ones of movies were easy to donate but he recorded many family occasions throughout the years. First he recorded them on cassette and later on VCR. I found a box that he taped and labeled "do no destroy". They list his name and mine, our kids, his mother's name and others. I just haven't had to courage to open the box or play any of these tapes. He was smart enough to have several cassette players and VCR players (even though you can't get them now so easily) but I know I will be in so much pain when I listen. I hope things will get better and down the road I will want to listen and watch these memories. Right now, I just can't.

Why is it that every time something like this happens, we feel they're being removed farther and farther from us? This was his secondary account, I lost the primary one years ago when a hard drive crashed, so there wasn't anything important in there, but it's just the idea.

This morning I discovered the account was hacked into by someone from India two days ago and I had reason to believe they were still in there so I deleted the account. I feel violated.

Kay,

I am new to this site but I lost my husband in January and feel like I am in an alternate reality that I can't get out of. I read your description of canceling your husbands e-mail account and I wanted to post something that happened to me. I have a facebook page which I started several years ago at my daughter's prompting. At the time, my husband was at home and loved to get on his e-mail, etc. so I started a facebook page for him. I could never get him interested in it so it stayed put in my "friends list". Well, I got on there the other day to see how I could delete it - since he's passed away now. Imagine my surprise when I clicked on it and saw another face. It was a face of a young man who claims he is Woody Schultz. That was my husband's name. I was appalled. He must have stolen my husband's identity. That had to be it. I told my son-in-law who is very computer savy and he told me how many people share "his" name. I can't even imagine that someone else shares my husband's name. After all, he was so unique and extraordinary and one of a kind. I sent a message to the young man which he did not respond to. I told him I had been married to Woody Schultz for 46 years and he certainly didn't look like MY husband.

It Doesn’t Make Sense

Out of the blue and for no reason at all I had a meltdown over a cocoa mug I knocked off the counter that Jim drank from for years. There was a pair – both blue with snowmen on the outside and snowflakes on the inside. I would make hot cocoa at night when Jim could not sleep. It was a special time for us. I think Jim used to wake up on purpose just to have that mug of cocoa with me! I don’t know why it sent me into an emotional outburst. You would have thought that someone was hurting me the way I carried on – thank goodness it was warm enough to have the air on and the doors and windows were closed or there would have been just a few people ringing my doorbell! Benji did not know what happened! He kept following me around until I settled down and then he sat right by me for a very long time. My therapy!!

I’m sure it wasn’t the mug that sent me into deep despair for a few hours. I know that it was part of my Jim. It tugged at my heart to the point that I wept like a kid having a tantrum. I did not even feel foolish. I just had to let the emotion move through my body. This is when grief really sucks. No one can understand it unless you are grieving for a loved one. Most would say ‘get over it, it was just a mug!’

I am still at the stage where I find it very hard to sort through things that were so Jim. There is a long sleeved white tee that he wore to the point of the neck and sleeves being frayed and I just can’t throw it out or use it as a cleaning rag! I tried to wear it around the house but we women have boobs and the tee was only a large in men’s – no room for the boobs!

Today I can smile at my outburst of yesterday. We are so fragile. Is this sense of vulnerability going to be with me for the rest of my life? Will I always be right on the edge of falling apart over ‘things’? Perhaps I will not react so strongly over the next ‘treasure’ but then again maybe I will. It tugs at the heart and as long as our hearts are beating I guess we’ll be vulnerable!

I know I’m not alone in this grief experience. Anne

Anne,

I am new to this grief support arena. I just lost my husband of 46 years in January. You are not alone. I wasn't even able to put my husband's coffee mug away in the cupboard for several months. It just sat on the kitchen counter where he left it. I tore through some things that he never ever wore and had the courage to donate them but I still have 2 jackets, a robe and a sweater that hang in my closet. I can't bear to get rid of them. I too feel sometimes like I am on the edge of falling apart. I pray alot and I hope that you will turn toward God during these hard times. I know he listens and cares.